In Cheery Chistmas Colours
by x.Miss.Attention.Span.x
Summary: Set after season 7, with vague reference to season 8. Slayers don't get a holiday just because it's Christmas, so as that cheery time of year rolls around Buffy finds herself out hunting for a demon. Little does she know but so is Faith. Buffy/Faith
1. Chapter 1

**_A/N: _**_So... this is a christmas themed Buffy fic I started writing... a while ago. I originally posted it on Livejournal but got no feedback, so i was wondering.. is it worth continuing? I'd love your opinion._

_xxx_

"Merry fucking Christmas." Faith muttered to herself, flicking her cigarette butt onto the cold cement and stamping it out with the scratched black heal of her leather boot. She stayed a moment, with her back against the rough brick wall of the alley, dark eyes taking in the night around her. Then with one last irritated kick at thin air she sauntered out again, hips swinging from side to side with each confident stride.

The cheery 'Merry Xmas' sign hanging over the door put her off, something about the way the simmering red letters stuck out against the violent green background. Once upon a time she'd thought it was odd that colours so often associated with anger and jealous were also used to represent Christmas. Now she just thought it was incredibly appropriate, because that's all she really felt around Christmas time.

Despite it's glittery season greeting, the brunette entered anyway. She didn't have much choice, most other bars were shut and any that weren't were too far a stumble home the next morning. What she found inside however was pleasantly dank, decrepit and utterly dodgy.

"It's like bein' home again..." slipped hoarsely from her lips, just as she caught a whiff of Sherry in the cold winter air. A woman to her left was passed out on the grimy top of a bar table, slumped beside her half empty glass, bright red lip stick marks around the rim. The tart colour gleamed in the low lighting, too red, too dark, like dried blood on the badly washed glass. Bile rose in the brunette's throat as she pulled her eyes away.

"Just like home.".

"Buffy... Buffy!". The blonde shook her head, stuffing clothes roughly into the knapsack on her bed, refusing to listen to the voice behind her. She could feel him hovering, his nervous energy seeping into her. As her hand reached out towards the pile of stakes, another larger hand grasped it, tugging her to turn and face them.

"Buffy! You can't go, it's Christmas.". The slayers pale green eyes gave him an irritated look before she pulled her hand free with ease. Christmas meant nothing, it was simply another day in the life of a slayer. Another day when evil ran rampant and peopled needed saving. She turned away from him again and began collecting up the stakes, the calluses on her fingers catching on loose splinters as she worked.

"I'm The Slayer Xander, I don't get Holidays. When the world needs saving, I save it." The pieces of wood clattered as they fell into her bag haphazardly. She slipped one up the sleeve of her shirt, her favorite, it's coarse texture grazing the bare skin of her arm uncomfortably, and began searching for the silver cross pendant that was her most prized possession.

"But that's just it, you aren't the only slayer anymore. You can send someone else to do this." Xander exclaimed, reaching out more gently this time, placing his on the top of her shoulder and squeezing it softly. Buffy only shrugged his hand away, leaning across the wrinkles of her bed cover as she spotted a gleam of silver in the deep blue folds. The metal was cold against her skin as she lifted it up, a delicate chain that snaked across her fingers, a small silver cross that sat in the palm of her hand. She could still remember the first time it saved her, the weight of the vampire on top of her and the smell of the musty coffin clear as day in her mind. Back when she had a mother to cook Christmas dinner and put presents in her stockings, when her and Dawn would leave out treats for Santa and the Reindeer and their father's gifts would arrive a day late but they didn't mind at all. When things were almost normal.

"What, and make them miss out on Christmas? I'm used to it now Xander, I don't care, it's only Christmas..." Her voice stayed level as she spoke, despite the shrill emotions choking her up inside. She slipped the necklace around her neck, careful not to let the catch tangle in the wisps of hair that fell free of her pony tail.

"What about Dawn?". Her stomach twisted at the mention of her sister and she paused a moment, hand frozen touching the the cross that hang from her neck, tracing the shape over and over.

"I'll only be gone a few days. You're in charge till I come back, but if anything major happens, _call me_.". She heaved the bag up onto her shoulder and began heading towards the door. Xander tried to stop her, stepped in her way and refused to move. She had the strength to push him aside, but instead she stopped, her wide green eyes letting her emotions show for once in the presence of her best friend only.

"Have a good Christmas Xander. Hey, maybe you'll even get Renee under the mistletoe." She smiled softly, reaching out to squeeze his arm before slipping past and out the door. Even as she made her way down the corridor she could hear vague sounds of protest echoing from her room.

"_W..what? Renee? Nooo, no no no. I don't.. I mean... I wouldn't..._".


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N: **Whilst staying with my grandparents over Christmas where there was no internet access I kind of got inspired, and so after such a long wait that I'm sure no-one will read it, I present to any lone soul who may happen to see this CHAPTER 2._

**CHAPTER 2**

The flight back to America was… long. Long and boring, and it left far too much time for Buffy to think - something she wasn't at all in the right mood for. By the time she arrived at her destination she was tired from lack of sleep (too wired to nap on the plane) and feeling down from over thinking. The plane had been packed with people flying home for Christmas, cheery smiles on their faces even though she'd booked a flight that had left at four thirty in the morning (the only one still available on such late notice). She exited the airport as swiftly as possible, her only luggage the knapsack slung over her shoulder, and then spent at least an hour trying to flag down a taxi out the front. By the time she arrived at her cheap hotel she was exhausted, but just as evil didn't take a break for Christmas neither would it wait around for Buffy to take a nap. She ditched the things she didn't need in the dingy hotel room, slipped the key in her pocket and went down to the 7/11 on the corner to buy some kind of caffeinated, sugar filled energy drink before she headed out.

As per usual Giles' vague instructions were little help. 'The dodgy part of LA' was, unsurprisingly, quite large. She had some knowledge of some of it, from back so many years ago when she'd run away for a stint, but she hadn't exactly been social or in the mood for exploring the city at the time – more caught up in her head and just trying to get by. Giles had said that this predicted big bad would be drawn to warmth and crowds of people, which on Christmas Eve in the dodgy parts of LA were bars and nightclubs.

She stumbled across a bar with a cheerful sign hanging over the door way, its brightness and wholesome Christmas message in dramatic contrast to the rest of the scenery. Groaning she tightened her grip on the strap of her bag, took a deep breath and entered the fourth bar she'd been in so far that night. She was greeted with the now familiar smell of stale beer and cigarettes that wafted slowly through the room, dancing in swirls around the lone woman swaying before the juke box. Buffy scanned the room for any signs of danger, but just as the last four found only lonely drunks trying to drink away the sorrows of being alone on Christmas. Part of her wanted to join them. Part of her liked how dank and decrepit these places were, felt at home in the shadows that swam in corners and threatened to swallow the rooms whole as the dim lights flickered meekly. She didn't though. Now more than ever she knew the importance of her role, how much she needed to remain a strong leader and positive role model for the army of girls (just girls, no matter how strong physically they might be) whom followed her.

With a low yawn (the energy drink starting to wear off and the fatigue setting in again) she walked around past the end of the last booth and into the back – towards where a sign above her head told her the toilets would be. Flicking back the blonde hair that fell around her face she kept her head down but her eyes open and her hand resting on the stake tucked up her sleeve. There was a silhouette further down the hall, just past the women's toilets, leaning up against the wall. Buffy kept an eye on them as she moved down, deciding to investigate this person first and then do a quick sweep of both bathrooms before moving on. The dark figure lent back their head and let out a long mouth full of smoke that trailed up to the ceiling. The fact that they were smoking led her to believe they were most likely human, but her gut told her to investigate further, and after seven years of her instincts most being right she thought it best to follow them.

As she reached where they stood in the hall and came level with them she was able to see their face in the dim light that had been hidden from her pervious angle. Her heart stopped in her chest.

"Faith?" she stuttered. Her dark opposite looked up, confused, as though she'd been in such a daze she was only now realizing she had company in the dark back hall. Her eyes went wide and smoke escaped her mouth as it fell open, momentarily blocking out her features in a twirling haze, and then it dissipated into the air again and she was still staring blankly back at Buffy.

"B? What the hell are you doin' here?" she finally asked, dropping her cigarette onto the dirty floor and standing up a little straighter, "Long time no see." Buffy stamped the cigarette out, feeling flustered just being in the other girl's presence and they'd barely even spoken more than two sentences to each other.

"A big bad thing. Giles sent me down to check it out," she answered softly, stepping back so she was up against the opposite wall with the width of the small hall between them.

"On Christmas Eve?" Faith asked, "Geez, there should be something in the Slayer contract about at least getting Major holidays off." She replied. Buffy smiled, possibly for the first time in over 48 hours. It cheered her up a little.

"I'll have to have a word with Giles about that when I see him next," she replied tiredly, trying to hold in the yawn that threatened to take over. Faith watched her quietly for a moment, head cocked to the side, with none of the anger she'd had when they were younger. Things would never be perfect between them, Buffy was sure. She'd never fully be able to trust the other slayer, would always be haunted by the painful memories of things she'd done. And Faith would never really be able to forgive Buffy for having the life she felt she deserved. But they'd do their best now. They'd try to get past all that, they'd be civil and they'd work together in next adventure they were faced with. There was always a part of Buffy that wondered though, if Faith had gone bad... what would have happened between them. She pushed the thought away.

"You wanna help me? I gotta do the rounds of I don't know how many more bars and I'm seriously jet lagged. An extra slayer would definitely be useful," she asked, leaning forward into the stream of light coming through a window at the end of the hall and batting her eyelashes. Faith laughed.

"Sure. I've got nothing better to do," she replied, shrugging, and pushed of the wall offering Buffy her hand. The blonde took it, letting Faith pull her back onto the flats of her feet, and almost forgot to let go as they headed back down the hall.


End file.
